


The Death of A Pirate

by MichyStar



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Character Death, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-16
Updated: 2012-06-16
Packaged: 2017-11-07 20:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/435189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichyStar/pseuds/MichyStar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now this is the story all about how, Dualscar’s life got flipped, turned upside down, because he’s a horrible comedian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Death of A Pirate

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so to clarify I read somewhere that Dualscar went to the Grand Highblood in an attempt to give him Mindfang’s location, her being rouge and all. IN the end, he dies of course. And what with the update saying he died by not telling a joke I just thought of this.

He was hysterical.

How could she just leave him like that? He was the best fucking thing to ever happen to her! They were hatched to hate each other, he could just tell. Never before had he imagined to find such a great kismesis as her. But now—but now she was gone. Claiming he had interfered with her, “love life!!!!!!!!”

She needed him. It would only be a short amount of time—not even half a sweep—before she came crawling back to him like a pitiful grub. That would be the day, oh how that would be the day. They’d engage in the greatest fight, the most violent and most damaging one, it would leave the seas running blue and violet for weeks.

Kicking over a few boxes on the deck he continued stomping around, uttering every curse he knew. She’d be back, and when she was he would be ready. His crew would be ready to make her pay.

. . .

It was now 3 months after Mindfang had left him alone, not even throwing a harsh last word in at him to get his blood boiling. She was always the best at that, making him see red, making him want to break everything and everyone, especially her.

He was desperate.

His crew had seen the change in behavior, how their once, stuck up and prideful captain had deflated. No longer did he stride with that smug smirk, and no longer did he have that booming, commanding voice. It was gone—replaced with a walk that wasn’t sure of itself, and an expression of complete self-pity. Of course he never made mention of it, only straightening up when they casted a wary glance at him. It was yet another dull, eventless month before a small glimmer of hope came in.

“Captain! Dualscar, sir!—”

“What the ever lovin’ fuck do you want?”

“—there’s been news of Mindfang!” That shut him up.

Seeing that he wasn’t saying anything the crew member straightened up, and continued in a hurried voice. “She had been captured—by a neophyte legislacerator of all people—her ship and crew all gone. And now she’s disappeared, after escaping trial and killing the legislacerator set to execute her. Word is she’s headin’ south, to meet up with a contact.”

For a long stretch everything was silent, then Dualscar’s eyes narrowed and his back straightened, and for a moment the crew member saw that old captain of his again. “Does anyone else know of this?”

“Not that I know of, the news came in today. The highbloods ain’t making it into a big deal though.”

“Wonderful,” standing up he slammed his hands down on his desk, making the few papers and maps on there shift, “tell the boys to sail up. We’re headin’ into town tomorrow.”

. . .

This new plan was a great one; he could feel it in his bones. As the crew docked the ship into the port he was just barely holding back the urge to jump and yell at the top of his lungs.

_Thought you could hide your little spider ass from me, well you thought wrong!_

But even though his mind right now was focusing on the thought of Mindfang’s face when she’s captured for the second time a small part of him was scared. But he was a pirate dammit, one of the best ones out there if he did say so himself, and pirates don’t get scared.

Already his arrival in the Royal City was causing a few worried whispers. Those stupid low bloods, acting as if he couldn’t hear their hushed voices as he went past them, once again stepping with purpose. Luckily it wasn’t too much of a walk from the docks to the main court yard, where all the important buildings resided. Today though, he kept his eye on the tent shaped building off to the left.

“Well? What are you sorry asses waitin’ for? Hurry it up; we don’t have all damn day!” He could tell what was slowing down his men, fear. And—though he wouldn’t admit it out loud—he was feeling it too. It wasn’t everyday some violet blooded pirate went to meet with the head of the Subjugglators. Once in front of the tent building he really was starting to second guess himself, but he did what he had always done before, and tucked that fear away into a dark corner.

Opening the door he strode in, ignoring the annoyed and shocked look on some of the—oh dear, they really were big, even for normal trolls. Clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention he paused only for a second before starting, “I’ve come to see the Highblood. Though normally I would be, I’m not here to cause any fuckin’ trouble. So all I’m askin’ is to see him, not even for an hour.”

“And what makes you think you can come all up in here acting like the fucking commander of us?—” The Subjugglator that had started speaking, a big troll with short messy hair and his symbol tattooed on his bicep, received a sharp elbow to the ribs from another one. No words were passed between them, only a look. This time when he spoke again it was more drawn out, almost teasing.

“Sure you can see our grand fucking leader. He’s in the back. The posse stays here though; we don’t want any trouble now do we?”

There was that fear again, slowly poking its head out of the corner. Simply nodding Dualscar looked back at his men, before turning and practically flinging himself at the other door in the room. He tried to ignore the sound of muttering behind him. Now he was walking down a dark, long hall. Much too long in his opinion. It was only making his anxiety worse and harder to keep inside. Even after all these years of living life out on the sea, raiding towns and other boats, he was still that scared little grub crying out for his lusus. Damn pride just got in the way of it. He came to a stop in front of a dark purple door with what looked like—was that blood on the handle? He had heard these Subjugglator folk were pretty messy. Wrapping a careful hand around the door handle he opened it, once again without knocking.

“You already have one strike.”

The voice sent a shock of cold through him, so low and dangerous.

“Do I need to fucking give you a second strike or are you going to pull your fucking head up to look at me.” He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring at the ground. Pulling his eyes up he saw for the first time in real life The Grand Highblood; and how grand he was. A huge troll with wild hair, wild eyes, and claws as long as short knives.

“A strike?”

“Be lucky I’m giving you some strikes, most fuckers that come in here don’t come out, you see?” He waved one large clawed hand back behind him and oh Dualscar did see. He saw a wall splattered with every blood color imaginable, and in some corners paintings of blood. This troll was truly a mad man.

_‘Now is not the time to be scared, Dualscar!’_ He scolded himself. Now he needed to be brave, even if only for a few minutes. “Well, I’m glad for the courtesy and all. But I want to make this quick, so let me get right to the fuckin’ point.”

“I’m waiting.”

“You haven’t even given me a chance to open my mouth--!” He quieted again when Highblood held up two fingers.

“I’m. Waiting.” He growled out.

“Yes—yes, but of course. Anyway, I have some information you might be interested in. About Marquise Spinneret Mindfang. I believe I know where she’s headin’.”

Now he waved his hand back again, but in a lazy motion. “Why should I care about that bitch? She lost an arm and killed a simple teal blood; she can go out and rebuild her army for all I fucking care. S’long as she keeps away from my territory I don’t give a fuck.”

Now that fear froze, and he noticed just how cool the room was. Yet he could feel himself starting to sweat. Not the time, not the time! “While that may be true I still think it can some pretty valuable information, here! She’s a bitch like you said a damn criminal and here I am givin’ you her fuckin’ location and you give me this whole I don’t care business.” When had he started ranting?

The room was filled with silence. Deafening, heavy. Then, “You haven’t said where she’s heading the fuck to.”

He had to hold back a sputter, “Didn’t I? I said she’s goin’ south—“

“You didn’t say nothing, brother.”

“I’m pretty sure I did!” That time he actually yelled it. This plan was supposed to be simple, dammit! Why was everything falling apart? This should have been so easy to do. Then he saw the third finger go up, and he swear he felt his heart fail and his breath stop. There was no clock in here so he couldn’t tell the time, but it felt like hours. Like the room was closing in on him, getting colder and colder with each passing moment and he was going to drown, a sea dweller of all people going to drown and everything was getting closer and closer and he felt like he was going to—

“Tell me a joke.” What? A joke?

“A. . . Joke.”

“I believe that’s what I said.” Why? Out of all the times he could have a joke, he wanted one right now.

“Ok! I mean—yes sir.” He thought about it for a moment, he could feel the judging glare of the highblood in front of him. “How do you shoot a blue shark?” He waited a beat before continuing, “With a blue shark spear gun!” Yeah, he felt pretty damn proud of that one. Sadly, the Highblood didn’t feel the same.

“You know, I’m a good fucking guy. I do my job; I listen to the Empress and serve her well. . .” He pushed himself up and out of his throne, staggering over to the side of it, “I make sure the fucking low bloods stay in line, my men are well trained too. I do every little fucking thing right yet what do I get in a reward?” Dualscar saw his hand close around something behind the chair. His other hand motioning to the walls again. “Nothing except the memory of my kills. Every single on—I can tell you about them too! See this one, this nice big green splotch right here? She was a sweet one, that she was. But the bitch couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the rules. You know that right? Everything has rules and ways to be done. Out there, it’s the Empress’ way. And in here? It’s my way. So since she couldn’t seem to get the rules into her head, I helped her. I still remember it like it was yesterday, haha. . . That nice little crunch her head made when it collapsed under the weight of my club. Such a nice, satisfying sound. You ever been satisfied before, brother?”

Dualscar hadn’t thought it would be possible for him to feel this scared. To be shaking, breathing shortly and quickly like he was drowning on air. But he knew he had to answer, if he didn’t that’d be five strikes. And that’s something he definitely didn’t want. “Yes sir, I have.”

“Good.” No grin should be that horrifying. The Grand Highblood took another lumbering step forward, and from behind the chair he dragged out a long spiked club. Dualscar let out a small breath. He was still close to the door, maybe, just maybe. . .

“By the way if you try to leave the men out there will snap your neck before you even step outside again.” Each word was punctuated with another step closer. He couldn’t have been 5ft away from the other troll when he raised his club.

_Move!_

And he did; just in time too because all he got was a gash on his side right by his gills. Letting out a shuttering gasp off pain he forced himself back to his feet, dogging another swing of the club. The other troll was laughing now, his eyes looking even more crazed if that was even possible.

“Haha, what’s wrong? Just having some motherfucking fun, ain’t that right brother?”

Somehow even with his damaged gills he was able to grasp onto enough stale air to yell at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! You’re fuckin’ insane! Why are you even attacking me, I’m higher than you! See?” He turned his palm off his wound enough to flash the Highblood the bright violet blood on his hand. He could feel himself getting weaker every second, it was getting harder to breath and he was getting tired more quickly. But he need to doge this, he needed to find a way out. He tried to think, had he seen another door out in the hall? Fuck, fuck, fuck!

The next swing caught his leg, cracking it. He felt his knee go out and this time he didn’t hold back the yell of pain. His knee was on fire, throbbing painfully and he still couldn’t breath. All he wanted was to make that bitch pay, and now here he was about to die because of her. It was her fault, all her fault.

“I gave you three motherfucking tries, you failed those. I gave you another chance, and you failed that as well. Sorry, bro, but I don’t have the time to be playing your little games.” With that he brought the club down on Dualscars stomach. He felt hot blood exploded out of his mouth, and he felt his insides literally move around—oh god oh god oh god this couldn’t have been happening. Not to him. He was Dualscar, Orphaner Dualscar for fucks sake! Trolls feared him coming into town and killing lusus to leave for the Empress’ lusus. If he went out it was going to be with a fight. Or so he had wished. The most he was able to do now was put his hands on the top of the club and try to push it up off of him. But the other was putting increasing pressure on it soon he heard his ribs crack as well. More blood now, flowing out of his mouth and down his chin.

“I—”

“Hush little highblood don’t say a word,” he pulled the club off of Dualscar, “Brothers going to show you a brand new world.” His grinned increased and looked even more threatening, if that was even possible at this point.

“That—That doesn’t even make fuckin’. . . sense.”

“It will soon.” And with that he swung the club high above his head, bringing it down with a satisfying crunch on Dualscars chest. A few drops of blood got on his hand, but he didn’t mind.

It made it all that easier to paint the walls later.


End file.
